Wings flutter past the gaping trees and over bustling fire and lakes; such great travel for such a fragile and small animal. Dust and sparks penetrate the air as beauty braves the wrath of the sea's weather.

--Long ago a war waged between the lands, taking place within a spot on the earth where not even weeds grow. This place is known as the goddess' other sister, one hidden by shame that owns the Dead Ruins. Here, nothing grows nor lives; everything is depressing, the sun never shines, it always rains, and no one lives for one. Around him are endless battles and torn down temples. He has born to misery he's come to sit in this hell now. Exiled from Veikh, he's come to believe that the mud he sits in is destiny. He had been driven to this world for interrupting the goddess' and their punishment to the world. For centuries he has not aged, bound by his sorrow to the worlds. Around him are the sounds of clashing metal and cries of terror. This is the fate he is doomed to live; to forever watch the blood of men spill into his lap. It is his transgression, his doom.
A girl, born to a family whose own fate is similarly tragic, she lets curiosity get the better of her. Beyond the roses and willows, beyond the heavenly paradise in which she lives, she and her fairy step into the darkness. This is a forbidden road to her. Trees grow no life past this point as she walks through the ebony forest for miles until she came across the Dead Ruins. She slumps down upon seeing the boy. Ducked behind some branches that were once a bush, she stares.
The boy has no sense in seeing the girl and continues sulking. Her eyes run over his features: white/grey hair, bright royal blue eyes, innocence and betrayal in his scars. Broken wings arise from his back, like crooked towers that are now nothing but splinters. His golden skin half dirty now from where the mud has settled. The stems of roses wrap around themselves, rocks, and the boy's arms. They once bloomed, grew, and flourished into magnificent life. Now only mere weeds that sprout thorns that have permanently embedded themselves into the boy's body. His entire self stained by dried blood.
For hours on end the young girl sat in a nearby tree, starring at the boy's emotionless expression. For even though there was nothing but war and gore around them, only silence filled their space. There was nothing in the world that could make the girl stop watching at that moment. He was the only person, the only thing she saw. Silence. He was so intriguing that when her inquisitiveness forced her to come back the next day. She brought a book.
A black sketchbook was amidst the girl's arms as she sat in the same spot the next day, her and her fairy. Countless time, which seemed like eons, went by. She sketched everything she saw; the boy, the roses, the debris, and most of all, his eyes, which she painted royal blue. However, no matter how hard she tried she could not draw his beauty on paper. This made her yearn to come back even more.
Day after day she came back and every day she would ponder if he loved himself the way she did. After all, did he know how remarkably beautiful her was? She debated telling people about him; yet, she didn't want others to spoil it, like trampling an evergreen flower to the rubble. On other occasions she pondered on talking to him but didn't want to disrupt his 'meditation'. Would he even care, or talk to her back?
Week after week went by and slowly she began to feel exhausted, she was neglecting everyone she knew and sleep. Often she found herself doodling the boy on paper or in the dirt. She watched the boy every chance she got and images of him made her heart flicker. In her mind he was like a panting, so beautiful she could only describe him as a deity of some form. His beauty never seemed to fade, even in the ugliness he placed himself in.
One night while sitting at her window she prayed to the gods and goddess' to let her be with the boy. She finally decided to ask her mother about the boy, if she knew him. The girl's mother, an oracle, preached the boy's history. Her mother didn't want her near the boy, though; she went anyhow. He was an outcast and doomed to love eternity alone.
Something very odd happened a few days later, something the girl did not expect. When she saw the boy that day, tears of blood fell from his eyes. It was as if a waterfall of blood was streaming from the skies. Beneath the boy was a message in ancient language, prompting the girl to ponder on how old the boy truly was. She was too far away to read it but she couldn't help but wonder how he had written it. Though she was too far away, her fairy could see and translate the antediluvian letter.

"Death, pleading, spilled into the stars."

--Without realizing it tears began running down the girl's fair skin; she wanted so badly to hold him, to make him happy. She longed to see him smile for her, to look at her and tell her that everything was all right. She knew that her wish was as predictable as the clouds overhead .

--Days lingered by and the girl did not return. For you see, she knew that she could not bare the pain and suffering of seeing him unhappy any longer. Instead she locked herself inside her room despite her mother's yearnings. It was in this room and at this time that her sanity finally took an absence. She knew she couldn't restrain herself from the addiction forever; she had to see him again. Each second she was away felt like an eternity and it ached down to the very soul. She had to see his hypnotizing eyes just once more.
That very night she wrote a letter to her mother explaining everything; she wouldn't be coming back. Leaving the note on her bed and looking back only once, she climbed down her window to reminisce on days when she did not have such troubles. Days when she did not have to drown her thoughts in such a creature but now she couldn't change what was in motion. After all, it had been one full year that she'd been watching him and in this time her obsession grew a bit with each passing day. She loved him. And though she knew she would never hear her love speak the same words back to her, she knew without reason that this was inevitable. She was chosen to bare his fate, no matter what that meant.
She kept her eyes on the dirt path as she walked from her house to the dead forest. She was afraid and alone in her mind-state. Though, through the fear and adrenaline was a flicker of chance and hope in the pit of her heart. As she came across the Dead Ruins she stopped and stared for a moment, not wanting to let go of the past. She went forth, crossing the tree in which she sat and the dead shrubs around it. Across the dirt and sand was the boy, about five yards away. She slowly stepped nearer to him, growing slower in anticipation until she was standing next to him. Sitting down, it occurred to her that not once did she look at him in all this time. She was now surpassed with emotion and a lack of what to say. Her green eyes sank over her shoulders and tunic, covering her brightly lit eyes. She would sit here until her death, with him.
Her hand clung to his, gripping it tightly, a bone-chilling pain running through her. Glancing over, she prayed for a response, which never came. The longer she sat, the more pain she began to was as if someone was taking her spirit from her. The earth was growing dull and morbid, light blurs coming into play. All she could hear was the shrieks of terror from the soldiers around her.

--A purple butterfly twinkled by as tears streamed down the boy's cheek. He looked to her for the first time, amazed and clenching her hand tightly. She had been willing to share his pain with him, a kindness that would only be repaid with death. Just by caring for him she had given him something as precious as her life. Crying was all her could do now to control his emotions; never before had anyone been so kind to him.

--In an instant, the butterfly turned to ask, falling to the ground. The boy turned to the girl, his tears flowing more frequently as he realized that the girl was to share a similar fate. He had been given new life from hers and now, somewhere there was newborn butterfly, about to go on its own journey. He gripped the girl's hand, choking back an emotion he had never felt, fleeing from a love he could not describe.
He would sit with her forever, in the hell of the world, just as she was willing to do for him. Time lingered and he contemplated if the girl new that he, too, had been watching her. A faint smile formed on his face; out of all the people in the world, it was a young girl who had been kind enough to help him. She knew nothing of him and yet she stayed with him, despite. He turned his head to her and through shimmers of tears, his smile widened.

"I thought you would never come."